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Killed in the Service of Her Country

I decided to reprint a prior blog post as we look back and reflect on the events this week that took place in Pearl Harbor during the early morning of 7 December 1941. We read about the heroic acts of the men that morning and the tremendous loss of life. As you will read in my next book Where Did They Put the Gestapo Headquarters? A Walking Tour of Nazi Occupied Paris, women played an extremely important role in World War II. This post is about one of those women – Stew.

Debutante to Wartime Pilot

Cornelia Fort (with a PT-19A). Photo by anonymous (c. 1942). PD-USGOV. Wikimedia Commons.
Cornelia Fort (with a PT-19A). Photo by anonymous (c. 1942). PD-USGOV. Wikimedia Commons.

Cornelia Fort (1919–1943) was the daughter of Rufus Fort, the founder of National Life and Accident Insurance Company. She grew up in a privileged Nashville home with a future of cotillions, marriage to a prominent Nashville man, and the quiet country club life. Only one problem: Cornelia didn’t want to become a debutante—she wanted to fly. Read More Killed in the Service of Her Country

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Medieval Sleep Number® Bed

Saint-Denis Cathedral: Recumbent statues of King Charles V and his queen, Jeanne de Bourbon. Photo by Dan Owen (2014).
Saint-Denis Cathedral: Recumbent statues of King Charles V and his queen, Jeanne de Bourbon. Photo by Dan Owen (2014).

Sandy and I were travelling through England several years ago when we visited a 17th-century manor. I don’t recall a whole lot of visitors at the time we were there so we pretty much had the whole house to ourselves. For security purposes, a docent was stationed in every room and they looked really bored—except for one.

Why Is the Bed So Short? 

Medeival sleeping chamber in Marksburg Castle. Photo by Efgeka (2009). PD-Creative Creations Attribution-Share Alike 3.0. Wikimedia Commons.
Medeival sleeping chamber in Marksburg Castle. Photo by Efgeka (2009). PD-Creative Creations Attribution-Share Alike 3.0. Wikimedia Commons.

When we got to what I think was the master bedroom, the fellow keeping an eye on us struck up a conversation. His comments were very interesting and considering the cost to get into the manor and its grounds, all of the room monitors should have done what he did and offer up treasures of information. Yet it was one of his questions that stuck in my head all these years. He asked us if we knew why the bed was so short.

I thought I’d impress him with my knowledge and responded that the people back then were short. In other words, they didn’t need the extra nighttime real estate. He agreed but said that wasn’t the real answer. So much for impressing him.

The Devil Made Me Do It

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